Tag Archives: sarcasm

Since the moment I stepped foot on campus, I was a dormy. I had the little shared room, which later turned into a little non-shared room, but still, it was a dorm. A dorm is a dorm is a dorm. This goes without saying, but dorms do not accommodate free-flowing space and the habitation of one person, let alone two. If it weren’t for the experience, I would’ve kicked the idea of living in a furnished closet to the corner, but that exhilarated Freshman inside of me begged to be confined by these bare white walls and the concrete-esque mattress of this twin-sized board they called my bed to embrace the independence, cooperation, and infamous struggle required as a newly instated collegiette. Now that I’ve gotten past that horrid phase in my college career, I’ve branched to what I had long considered the unknown: school-affiliated apartment housing that is off campus. Yes, I’ve finally done it, the big thing. So to kick off this semester of new beginnings and unexpected struggles, I would like to reiterate the realizations I have made as a campus outsider looking at the whole big picture of my housing experience.

1.You never really understand how much space you’re missing out on until the moment when you arrive at your first real apartment. I can legitimately breathe in here, deep breaths! I can extend my arms in both directions, stretch real hard, and not touch both walls. I can smell the freedom, and for once, it doesn’t smell like dirty carpet or an unkept common area. I think that’s exciting! Excitement is actually an understatement. It’s invigorating. And not only that. When I enter my room, I’m not already standing in front of my bed, nor do I have to kick and shove things aside to be able to close my door. I have a good amount of feet before I even come close! I could tell it was a blessing when I unpacked my belongings and the room did not induce a stress-related panic attack.

2.I finally have a mailbox that isn’t a P.O. box. It’s an ACTUAL, real-life MAILBOX, guys. I never realized how irritating it can be to have a P.O. box when I want to order samples of products (Yep, it’s a new thing I’m trying out, and yes, I promise I’ll include all the details when I actually receive said samples!). A chunk of them won’t even let you if you’re unlucky enough to have a P.O. box, and it’s not really like I had much of a choice coming in to decide where I wanted my mail to be dropped. Having an actual mailbox gives me the freedom to be the scavenger I am for online deals. It’s a win-win. I save money and companies get another (hopefully) happy customer that may or may not consume based upon happy sampling (or sad sampling, if the product makes me break out even more so than my skin does).

3.The walls are, in fact, still thin. Queue the “boos” and other groans of discontentment. If someone turns their head in the building next door to me, I can hear it. I guess I wasn’t really expecting thicker walls anytime soon, but it was worth the hopefulness. But now, I have the added benefit of creaking floors and creaking ceilings from my neighbors above my apartment romping around, doing what they do on a Wednesday night. However, don’t regard this as a complaint. I am madly, deeply in love with the new apartment I call my home. It really is a home. There’s not a single part about it or my residence community that makes me feel like I’m in confinement.

4.I’m a rent-paying adult. Ew, adulthood. And I have to pay my rent on time. By a deadline. Like everything else. It’s one of those realizations that only begins to hit you when you’re filling out the check, dotting the “i”‘s, and carving in that finalizing signature. It’s not like the thought hasn’t grazed your brain before, but being the individual that the deadline addresses…it’s so odd. Dorms force you to pay basically upfront. There isn’t a monthly payment that needs to be issued, so the thought barely crossed my mind. I could fill my brain with all of my other obligations (which happily accepted and inhabited the space). I was a little overzealous this month, paying my next month’s rent 10 days before it’s actually due, but I’m an anxious person that knows for sure that I’m going to trip over myself one month and realize that I have yet to pay my rent. So here’s a toast to the overachiever in me, and although overzealous me will get over this next step up, the daunting signs of adulthood that are looming upon me will put me back into this strange little worried state. It takes time to become accustomed to backpacking my responsibilities.

5. Shuttles are convenient.So convenient. TOO CONVENIENT. The claim is that they arrive every 15 minutes, but….I guess…..15 translates to 45 in a conversation between bus driver and the average punctual, logical, time-telling-and-comprehending student. If you don’t have a car, and you can’t find a friend with a car, and you have free time to wait for an hour before your class to ensure that you get there. And you can’t possibly walk, and it’s not urgent, and the class is optional, and it’s not an exam day, and you don’t mind sporadically rubbing up against strangers, and if you want an arm workout from holding on to the bars too tight while you’re standing in the middle aisle in the hopes that you don’t come crashing through the emergency exit when the driver makes a sudden stop. So….yeah. Shuttles are….convenient. They’re great, if any of those reasons are applicable. But don’t take my word for it. Take them for a spin. You’ll enjoy every sweaty, anxious moment that accompanies this intimate experience.

I remember the moment I stepped onto campus, doe-eyed and actually legitimately afraid. Yup, I was terrified. In a couple of hours, I would be completely on my own. Nobody would be there to lecture me on the importance of organization in my place nor would anyone be there to have dinner with me every night. Nobody would be there consistently to make me feel better when I had a rough day. It would be….weird. But as a student entering her junior year (I’ve been in the saddle long enough to no longer feel like that “little fish”), I’ve compiled these lessons and stored them into my brain to clear up some of the worries (even the irrational ones!) that you guys may end up having prior to or at the moment of realizing that you are living somewhere completely new and every little thing is on you, buddy. No one will be holding that hand of yours through this whole thing unless you’re coming on campus the boo.

Fear: I am going to have no clue how to get to my classes on the first day and everyone is going to point and laugh at me, the idiot freshman, because I am holding a “kick me” sign and wearing a neon-colored dunce hat due to the fact that I don’t yet have any sense of direction on campus.

Fact: Not true. Not true at all. On the inside, you’ll be doing all those things. But on the outside? You’re gonna be looking like everyone else. Face buried in your phone, probably dressed up picture perfect so you don’t make a bad impression on all those new friends you’re going to meet (because that’s usually how it works on the first day, which then deteriorates exponentially for every day that follows until you hit Final’s Week when the whole “style” thing goes downhill), and ridiculously early to your class. Seriously, you didn’t need to leave two hours early. There aren’t going to be teachers standing outside their classrooms like high school, but the students know their way around like the back of their hand, and they’re usually pretty chill about it. But realistically, that iPhone battery is definitely not gonna sustain during that period between the time of arrival and your actual class. Use the time to do some good ol’ traditional socialization. Look for someone that will have mercy upon you but avoid all eye contact with everyone else. THEY ALL WANT TO EAT YOU ALIVE. You’ll kill the game (no pun intended, of course!) before it even starts, Freshmeat. Seeeee? Socially Awkward Penguin gets it (disregard his name. He’s misunderstood).

Fear: If I don’t bring a car, then I can’t get food. And if I can’t get food, I’ll die. If I don’t bring a car, I’m going to die. I’m useless without my wheels!

Fact: Partially true, but you’re not going to die. Cars are like pure gold on a college campus, so if you have one, it’s great (and horrible) for you. But fear not if an automobile is not within your grasp! If you have a bicycle and can strategically maneuver through traffic with the weight of a week’s (or several weeks) worth of food on your handlebars, you can still get groceries off campus! But realistically, it’s best to just figure out who you’d rather spend your gas money on, whether it be a friend or a roomie. The bike is a flimsy last resort and has more potential of making you road kill, so keep that in mind.

Fear: I won’t have any time to eat in between classes, so maybe I should bring a three-course meal, some snacks, a Foreman portable grill, a spatula, some cooking spray, maybe some apple juice, or I could bring a juicer and bring some apples and whip some right up and….and I won’t starve. I’ll be ready for the famine.

Fact: I was guilty of this. My first year, I packed all kinds of food so I wouldn’t starve and it was really just… so needless. I had plenty of time to at least come back to my place and grab a snack and sometimes even change out of my sweaty clothes (Florida probs). It’s really all about how you coordinate your schedule. If you’re gonna put your classes back to back from 8:30 AM to 5 PM, you can’t expect there to be a break period. That mess is all your own doing. Give yourself a solid 30 minutes to an hour between the majority of your classes so you can keep both your physical and mental state in check. Your body and brain will thank you for not being a sucker. Plus, you’ll probably be skinnier, too, because the nervous-overeating will not be your problem, as you’ll have nothing but school supplies to consume in these moments. You’ll pick up something to munch here and there, maybe a couple notebooks and some ballpoint pens with full ink, and you won’t have to disturb your classmates with that clown car of a backpack. I mean, how much sh** can you really pull out of one backpack? And what really beats the taste of poison?

Got any tips for the incoming college Freshmen? Wanna let them know how to not die on the first day?Comment below!

Twenty. It’s an awkward age. And I thought I was awkward then. Psh. I’ve only blossomed. When I was younger, I always thought that twenty was going to be such a grand thing. I was going to have everything in my life together, wrapped neatly in a white picket fence and bow. Well, not yet, but on my way toward the like. But as a current twenty year old, I can honestly say that it isn’t as glamorous as it seems (self-kick to the childhood). Here are a few terrible truths about being twenty that I never would’ve even thought about as a kid, that I now know to be inevitably true. The fantasy has officially been extinguished.

1. Life: “You need to get your act together. You’re an ADULT. You need to have job experience. Nobody’s gonna take you seriously unless you start taking on more than your schedule can hold. Do it for ME–I mean….employers.” Love always, Your Parents (and supposedly your greatest support system. Hrm. It’s just tough love. Right? Riiiight?)

Reality Check: You’re too young to have a full-time occupation but still too old to “babysit”. At this point, it would just be weird (“You little slacker, you. Nobody’s gonna look at that babysitting job on your resume and say, “Wow, this kid’s a catch. He can whip up snacks and make sure kids don’t die while their parents “visit grandma for dinner”. Hurry, grab him while he’s still available. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHY ARE YOU NOT ON THE PHONE WITH HIM AS WE SPEAK?! These qualifications are rare.”). If you’re not an intern for a major corporation by 20 (If you’re not already owning it by now, because you should really be trying to get ahead of the pack, you slacker), you’re the epitome of a failure. Embrace the failure stink. It’s all that you’ll ever know.

2. Life: “You know Josh? Do you remember little ol’ Josh? Well, Josh works for the FBI now–he’s in charge of the FBI–oh excuse me, he CREATED the FBI. And he’s only 19. And he’s also cured cancer, built homes for the poor, completely ended world hunger, and invented a flying car, all in one weekend. Could you imagine what he could do in two?! Josh was always such a good boy, but wow! Josh is so great now! Why can’t you be like Josh? You should call Josh. Hang out with Josh. Love Josh. Love him. Josh. Josh. Josh. Josh. Joshjoshjoshjoshjosh….(“Josh” chant that leaves you in a state of eternal hell, kind of like the ending to the “Bill Nye the Science Guy” chant at the end of his intro. Ring a bell?)” (The name “Josh” is hypothetical, but I guess if you’re an awesome Josh, I’m talking about you, buddy. You’re making my parents and everyone with high expectations of me hate my freakin’ guts. Good job. HOPE YOU’RE PROUD.)

Reality Check: We all know a Josh. Ugh. Kinda wish he’d go away and take his Facebook full of all of his stupid milestones with him. He makes my own major accomplishments look like mere blips on the radar, and then I get verbally paddled (with a gentle voice occasionally to cushion the blow) because he’s the next young genius of geniuses in all of Geniusville. This is why Netflix exists. Not to entertain us (me). It’s so we (I) can wallow in our (my) disappointed existence because Josh ALREADY FIXED ALL THE WORLD’S PROBLEMS SO THERE’S NOTHING LEFT TO DO. JOSH HAS IT ALL FIGURED OUT, DOESN’T HE?! But think of it this way. Because of Josh and all of his perfections that you lack, your services are no longer needed. You’re free. Roam, my child.

3. Life: “Here, have some homework. Wanna hang with friends? Here, have some homework. Got some dishes to do? How about some homework? Family is packing the van and driving for several hours, updating you every five seconds to ensure that you’re waiting at the apartment like a dog that hasn’t been fed in months, so they can see you for the first time in what feels like centuries? It’s a great time for a research paper that has to be a minimum (minimum. not maximum.) of 800 pages, single spaced, due obviously tonight. That’s enough time, right? That was rhetorical, by the way. Eh, who cares. I most certainly don’t care.” -Life

Reality Check: Any and every time you have plans, there will be some homework knocking on your door. True fact. The only way to fight against the buildup is to either get ahead or build a pillow fort out of your whole apartment and become a total shut in, avoid eye contact with your roommate who already thinks you’re a nutcase, and close off all connections to the real world. Nothing can come with you on this journey of seclusion. No laptop, no ipod, and no, not even the smart phone. That phone will know if you’re hiding, and it will notify all of your contacts (including Facebook friends, maybe even the ones you don’t like and don’t know why you ever added) that you’ve completely lost your marbles, as the newest feature of the newest iPhone obviously does. Before you know it, they’ll all come ruthlessly banging on your paper-thin door begging you to gather some sense. Just kidding. You’re gonna die alone in there. With a heavy head and an empty stomach. Nobody is going to realize you disappeared. All because you didn’t want to do your homework. Kinda seems silly now, doesn’t it? Just whip out the 800 page paper. It’ll only take you about an hour. Or a million hours. Something like that. I’m not good with numbers.

Parents: “See, Josh was never afraid to–“

Me: “SHUT UP. Just shut up”.

Parents: “But Josh always did his homework before it was due and he still managed to–“

*mysterious disappearance not caused by prior events/conversations at all but definitely by something else, yeah*

*Oh no, where did my parents go? Oh it was an accident. Oh it happened all of a sudden. Oh*

Social networks are essential at this point to keep in touch with others (it’s one of the first things people ask for when they meet, besides phone numbers!) efficiently as we are all part of a network or several networks due to technological advancement and our ever-changing society (especially in this technologically-born-and-bred generation), but what makes them such a useful tool in our abilities to communicate? Even more importantly than that, what about these networks is counterproductive to our social growth? In this post, I’d like to take a second to analyze the networks I participate in from my perspective to bring to light the positives and negatives of these online communities.

Excuse my sarcasm. If you don’t like it, look away.

Facebook

Real-Life Uses: Telling and showing everyone your inner “wild child”, mentally documenting all the places your friends have gone without you this week, and sharing “”Like” this if you love -insert subject here that is legitimately unaffected by your “like” on Facebook-” pictures. Oh, and occasionally dropping in to say “hello” to people that you speak so little to that you’re practically strangers or initiating unwarranted booty calls.

Sparknotes: “How many times are you going to go clubbing out on a weekday? Or are all of those photos from just last night? Why didn’t you invite me? You said you weren’t going to the club until this weekend….”

Pros – Facebook was the immediate, significantly better competitor of MySpace, it’s failed predecessor. It provided a simple, friendly (overly friendly) interface for users that got sick and tired of the dying Myspace community (“GOD I HATE MY MYSPACE FRIENDS. THEY SUCK. THEY’D BE SO MUCH COOLER IF THEY WERE STILL MY FRIENDS, BUT SOMEWHERE ELSE!”) that were still looking for ways to keep in touch with each other (and who all followed each other into this new world of stalking–I mean…..Facebook). Facebook has its perks. You can create groups easily, which is convenient for people to bond over their unhealthy obsessions with Chipotle and rave culture, but it is also a great tool for users that want to associate with people that work in the same field (potentially to bond over the struggles that only they would know, and possibly to practice empathy?). Or another great feature would be the ease of information transfer, so you can read up on your crush’s latest (and definitely greatest) post to your mutual friend’s profile discussing the crazy party he attended last weekend that he claims he doesn’t remember because he was “sooooo wasted”. Or something.

Cons – I don’t know if you caught the vibe that I let on before, but I’ll certainly reiterate. Facebook is great. It is, I promise. But it’s getting creepy. The latest feature that they released (or what I believe to be the latest notable feature) is the ability to track how close in proximity people are to your location and to share your location as well. It’s so gross how invasive this can be, and you know that this tool could be used for so many more ways that aren’t as innocent as the way it was meant to be used (unless stalking was the full intention. In that case, bravo. You’ve won.).

Another fault of Facebook (and of course, this isn’t little old Facebook’s fault) is the duck-face-peace-sign combination in pictures (usually profile pictures) that transferred from the death of Myspace. It’s quite a shame, really. But I don’t penalize those who use the combination ironically, as long as the irony is known. Let that be known.

Instagram

Real-Life Uses: Selfie storage and meal documentation.

Sparknotes: “We all suddenly know your dietary habits. Really well. A little too well, since we haven’t talked since the third grade. Your toilet schedule would be nice to know, too, if you could post that as well.”

Pros – I love being able to just post photos if I want to. If I want to be mysterious and awesome (not that I’m not already, as you already know–HEY, DON’T LAUGH!), I can “live life dangerously” and post a photo with no context in the caption and it will be all good and dandy. Hah. But really, I think it’s a neat network. I enjoy the fact that you can “try on” a bunch of effects on your photographs before you settle with one, and that as of late, Instagram has provided a sick new set of customizations for photographs, from contrast to sharpening. It looks like they’re headed in the right direction, so I don’t see an account cancelation induced by disappointment in my near future.

Cons – You can’t edit comments, so that nasty comment you left in a fury of bitter hatred is licked and sealed. The damage has been done, and there will be no take-backs to be had. Ouch. I hope it was worth it. Maybe that’s the penalty for getting “white girl wasted” and angry in combination. I do think, on a more serious note, that reporting should be taken a lot more seriously on Insta, as I have seen several accounts become compromised with radio silence from the support staff for days to even weeks before the problem was fixed. Not only that, but people report the most ridiculous material, too, on there which bugs me. The report button is not meant to be a play thing. No bueno.

Twitter

Real-Life Uses: An everyday Battle of the Sexes and lots of sexually-oriented, anonymous retaliation submissions to Collegefession. And of course, the cheesy love quotes and the “LOVE CAN GO BURN IN AN ETERNAL PIT OF FIRE” quotes, both equally enjoyable.

Sparknotes: “I’m a strong, independent -insert racial label that has nothing to do with independence- woman who don’t need no man. Unless he’ll buy me flowers, call me first (beat me to it, please!), and text me cute things every living, breathing minute of every day. Then I say, “Hell Yes! Come here, my Prince Charming!” But only then. These terms are non-negotiable.”

Pros – Many of the organizations I already “follow” have a Twitter, so following them on there allows me to herd them all into one place. Is that it? Yeah, I think that’s about it. I don’t use Twitter that much (and this is your queue to gasp dramatically and inquire as to why I haven’t embraced this beautiful thing wholeheartedly within my own life), because I have yet to purge my profile of all the users that spam my dashboard with cliche quote vomit. It’s not Twitter’s fault, so don’t get it twisted. If you like Twitter, continue tweeting on to your heart’s content.

Cons – My dashboard is filled with a bunch of garbage (I want to be nice, but I just…can’t). I probably look at 1% of the material on there, if I even go on Twitter. All people ever retweet are 20-page slideshows (when realistically speaking, I only clicked the link in the hopes of reading ONE STORY on said topic), nudes (or semi-nudes), and anonymous confessions on Collegefession that glorify cheating on significant others and carelessness by people who are legally considered “adults” that act worse than their younger (probably more responsible) counterparts. I feel like I’m mid-life crisis-ing all over this (and I’m only in my twenties!), but going on Twitter makes me feel straight-up dirty for that reason. At this point, I only go on to actually view the Twitter profiles of organizations I admire, rather than scope them out on my dashboard between a slideshow about Miley Cyrus’ red carpet faux pas and a quote supposedly by Marilyn Monroe that was never actually said by Marilyn Monroe. And no, seeing that same quote retweeted over and over never gets less awkward.

Which is your personal take on the social networks you’re currently a part of?

I’ve come up with a list of 5 important lessons I’ve realized in the light of a serious relationship (Oh, and enjoy the gifs/pictures for emphasis).

May the truth set you free.

1. You’re gonna see a lot more out of your partner than you do in the “honeymoon phase”, the good, the bad, and the straight-up ugly. During that phase, you guys will be pulling chairs and opening doors like there’s no tomorrow, but of course, as time goes on, it will be accompanied by the occasional air-ripping burp. It’s inevitable. Welcome it with open arms because it will come barging through the door with or without your welcome sign. This is when you will rationally realize that we are all human, even your boyfriend!

2. You’re going to fight. You’re gonna have the kind of fights that are going to make you want to rip your partner’s hair out from the scalp sometimes, and it’s normal. Yes, I repeat. It is a normal thing. It’s overwhelmingly boring to be with someone exactly like you with your exact same opinions, but what comes with differences comes arguing sometimes. It’s a worthy trade, trust me. Opinionated people are a treat to be around, whether they agree with your love for religiously watching Pretty Little Liars or not.

3. Being close with your significant other’s parents creates a world of good within your relationship (that is, if they actually like you). Not only can you rely on them to help you plan surprises for your love, but in my traditional little way of thinking, they are part of the approval process if a couple wants to take their relationship to the next level (their opinions in your relationship matter, too!). Why not start from the top, right? Plus, who knows your man and all of his strange quirks better than they do? They can show you all of his cutest, most horrifying pictures from his childhood AND treat him to a sweet dose of reality if he won’t listen to your word and needs an uninhibited opinion. It’s a two-for-one deal.

4. Holding on to anger is a double-ended sword. You spend all this time letting an issue fester within your mind and build up to tremendous heights, and then your partner ends up dealing with the blown-out-of-proportion version that has swallowed the truth and spit it out into something it clearly wasn’t before. It started as an annoyance that he canceled plans one night, and ended up being interpreted as an exclamation of hatred that resulted in your partner canceling all of your plans together because you claim he’d rather spend some time with anyone but you (which is kinda ridiculous, seeing as how he is romantically entangled with you). *shrugs* By the end point, you don’t even know what you were truly and originally angry about. Keeping communication lines open prevents the bullcrap of reiterating an, at this point irrelevant and unnecessary, problem.

5. Enjoy every moment. I’m feeling like I’m bringing up a hardcore cliche right here, but hear me out. Every unexpected bump in the road is a test for your relationship to overcome, and each time it does, the reality hits that your partner wants this just as much as you do, which is one of the best feelings in the entire world. Don’t take a single moment for granted. This is your free pass to be disgustingly sweet (emphasis on the disgusting part) with your significant other. Go ahead and post a ten page love letter on Facebook. He deserves the affectionate embarrassment haunting his news feed as a reminder for months to come of all the weird TMI stuff you love about him. In some other dimension, he may be highly appreciative of this much needed public announcement of overemphasized, stomach-churning adoration.

I actually find those that are sarcastic often maintain my attention better than those who are not. Ironically, those who know how to humorously be an a**hole are the best people to have around (shocking that I’m looking for someone to challenge my humor!), and for some reason, are getting harder and harder to find as I get older. Where are my jokers, and why aren’t you in my life?